The daily torture.

He is dead and gone.

I never have to see his face again.

Yet I do see him every day. Every day, on my way to work and every day on my way back home, there he is – the abuser. Since moving in with my mother, I have the unfortunate daily routine of passing his house on the train. The tube rarely travels overground in London except in some cases. The tracks run, for a short while, behind my childhood home. The prison where he kept me under his control. The garden with no way out into the world, trapped by those blasted tracks. The building that never sheltered me from the storm raging in my father or protect me from his thunderous nature.

Every day I have to pass it.

The residence of torture and his haven of abuse. That solitary confinement that controlled and watched over me. His sadistic dungeon of emotional perversion. I know it is coming as soon as light appears after the darkness of the tunnel. I am expecting it, awaiting it and fearing it. I have tried to avoid it by sitting with my back to it and although physically it helps, mentally I am completely aware of what is burning into my back. It is unfortunate my mother lives in the same area as my father did and that I have to endure this journey each day.

Occasionally, I peer in. Worse, if the train stops by the house (which it can do), I am forced to stare into each room. Nothing has changed which only sparks more anxiety in me as if he’ll appear at any moment. I look hard to see any shadow but nothing materializes. Instead the rooms look the same as when I left them. The stress and panic in me builds within a few short seconds. By then he has imprinted himself in my mind.

We will move out of this area. That is a guarantee. I cannot do with this daily torture for the rest of my life. I never want to see that house again.

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4 thoughts on “The daily torture.

  1. Must be so hard to face your past and awful experiences every day. I really hope you’ll be able to get away from that place asap. Take care! Love always, Isadore

  2. Thank you for sharing. I’ve recently escaped from an abusive relationship, and your story really hit home. It’s all those flashbacks that are so hard to escape from, but this post made me even more certain (if that is possible!) that I’ve done the right thing in refusing to allow my child to grow up around this abusive man. Stay strong, keep writing! x

    1. Oh absolutely the right decision I’m sure. Thank you for your comment and kind words. I try to look away now to prevent the flashbacks but the anticipation of seeing my old prison is too much to handle. It’s not ideal when I’m travelling to work. I look forward to reading your story too, much love, R x

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